


Petunias

by xanithofdragons



Category: A.B.C.-Z
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Language of Flowers, M/M, Romance, hanakotoba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 13:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15819837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanithofdragons/pseuds/xanithofdragons
Summary: Hashimoto keeps going to the flower shop.





	Petunias

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as the Hanakotoba short movie/music video. In case anyone forgot, Shiori is the name of the love interest from that video.
> 
> I actually started writing this well over a year ago and just finally got around to finishing it up orz.

Hashimoto stopped at the flower shop on his way home from work on a whim, really. It had been a month since Shiori had been discharged from the hospital, and with her recovered, there had been no need for him to buy flowers or even think about them really, aside from the bouquet Shiori had given him when she left. But those had withered in time no matter how well he had taken care of them, and now he felt like he was lacking brightness in his life. He figured more flowers should work as good as anything, and the owner of this shop was friendly enough and seemed like he should be able to recommend something good.

After actually entering the flower shop, though, he began to doubt his plan. Everything just reminded him of Shiori, the flowers he had bought for her, and the time they had spent together.

“Oh, it's you! I wasn't sure if you'd come again.” The owner of the store, Kawai, had caught him before he could leave. “I'm glad you came. What are you looking for today?”

Hashimoto felt bad, but said, “I'm sorry, there wasn't anything in particular. I was just leaving.”

“Oh, okay, come again anytime.” The owner's smile seemed forced, like he was disappointed, and seeing him like that, Hashimoto hesitated.

“Well actually, I was looking for some flowers to put up in my apartment, or something. Something bright.” He didn't need to give up after already coming here. If it had cheered Shiori up to look at flowers, it couldn't be too different with himself, could it?

“In your apartment?”

“What, is there something wrong with buying flowers for myself?”

“Not at all, not at all. I just thought there might be someone new in your life you were giving flowers to. A handsome young man like you, I'm sure you're popular.” Hashimoto had forgotten how awkward Kawai could be. He was friendly, but it was like he was a little too friendly for Hashimoto to keep up with.

“Not... not really.”

“Hmm. Well, not to worry, I think I have an idea for something to brighten up your apartment. Wait by the register; I'll get it from the back.” Kawai left for the back, and Hashimoto waited by the register as asked. Hashimoto waited almost long enough that he wanted to call out that he was leaving when Kawai came back with a small bunch of white flowers on green stems. “Lilies of the valley. In the language of flowers they mean 'return of happiness.' How about it?”

They were small and not colorful, but they were cute. Hashimoto figured that since he was already here and Kawai had bothered to make a bouquet for him, he could at least buy it. He put the flowers up when he got home, and his apartment _did_ feel a little bit brighter and less lonely.

It wasn't every day, but about once a week, after the last flowers he had gotten wilted, he cleaned up the vase they were in and stopped by the flower shop the next chance he got. It became a comforting ritual for him, a new normal. He eventually started getting flowers for other patients he was helping at the hospital again, too. 

One day at the flower shop, though, Kawai suddenly handed him a book at check-out. “What's this?” Hashimoto asked him.

“It's a floriography book, on the language of flowers and things like that,” Kawai answered.

“Why are you handing it to me?”

“I finally found the copy I had lost, but I went and bought a new copy in the mean time. That's the new copy, but I don't need it anymore, so you take it.”

“But...”

“It's fine. Just take it! It's really interesting, and it deepens your appreciation of flowers.”

“Ah... thank you?” If Kawai was being this insistent, Hashimoto thought it would be better to just accept it.

Hashimoto laid the book on top of a bookshelf when he got home before putting out the new flowers and forgot about it. He only remembered it while tidying his place up his next day off, and started flipping through it out of curiosity. The first thing that surprised him was that every flower had multiple meanings, and as he looked through it further, he found that there were lots of flowers with similar meanings too.

He didn't think he could understand it, much less try to communicate with someone else using it. He could see the romance in a secret language between hidden lovers, but the thing was that expressing his feelings vaguely through objects wasn't actually his style. He had always tried to say what he meant directly with words. Better that than accidentally saying the wrong thing just because of mixing flower species up or picking the wrong color or number.

At the least the flower pictures were pretty, he thought, as he put it back on his bookshelf and forgot about it again.

He continued on with his routine, going to work daily and visiting the flower shop every week or so. He got so fixed in a routine that Kawai started to expect him and have some sort of flowers ready to recommend him on some days he stopped by.

One day Kawai held out a bouquet of red tulips, and said, “This is from me.”

Hashimoto looked at the offered flowers. He was happy to receive them for free, but he couldn't help but wonder. “Why tulips?”

“Have you been reading that floriography book I gave you?” Kawai asked.

“I'm sorry... not really,” Hashimoto said.

“Well, try looking tulips up in the book, okay?” And that was all Kawai would say about it.

Hashimoto left the store, bouquet in hand. The owner was so weird. How could he bluntly guess at Hashimoto's feelings and yet be so round-about when giving a gift?

Curiosity, though, had him opening up the book for the second time after he got home.

“Tulips... tulips... there it is. 'Thoughtfulness,'” he read aloud to himself. And there it was, what was that even supposed to mean? But wait, there were other meanings for different colors too, and the bouquet was made from red tulips in it. “Let's see, red tulips mean... 'a confession of love'? Huh?” So either Kawai was trying to tell him something about thoughtfulness, or he was confessing his love.

Hashimoto was bewildered. Sure, the owner had been friendly to him, but that could have just been part of his customer service. Still, no matter how different Kawai was, people didn't just give flowers out to people they didn't care about. Hashimoto thought about what it would mean if Kawai _did_ happen to be confessing his love. Somehow thoughts of going on a date with him came up before thoughts of rejecting him. Kawai had been there for him for a long time now, and Hashimoto was ever willing to take a risk in love.

The next day he went back to the flower shop. Kawai looked up at his entrance with surprise written on his face.

“Back so soon?”

“It's about the tulips you gave me yesterday,” Hashimoto started.

“Yes?”

“I thought about replying with flowers too, but is it okay if I use words instead?”

“I don't mind.” Kawai was stiff, almost as though he was nervous.

“If you meant what I think you did, maybe I'm wrong, but would you like to go out with me for dinner tomorrow?” He knew the store would be closed the next day and hoped Kawai had no other plans yet.

Kawai's eyes widened. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Do you not want to? Did I misunderstand?” It would be embarrassing if he had misunderstood everything and asked him out for nothing.

“No, no, I can meet you tomorrow,” Kawai rushed to say. They made plans together where to go and where to meet up.

In the evening the next day, they sat together at a restaurant eating.  
“I understand that flowers are romantic, but why didn't you just say it directly? What if I got the meanings mixed up?” Hashimoto had to ask.

“Whenever I try to say something romantic, people tend to think it's a joke,” Kawai answered. There had certainly been times in the past when Hashimoto hadn't been sure if he was joking or serious. “So in a way, I can convey my feelings more clearly and sincerely through flowers.”

“Still, you make me do a lot of work trying to look up the meanings all the time,” Hashimoto said. “Don't worry, though. I think it's worth it.”


End file.
